


Hello, Beastie.

by winchemrys



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, If you've seen Maleficent you will understand where the story is going, M/M, Maleficent AU, Merlin is a sarcastic little shit, Noble!Arthur, Wings, Work In Progress, emrys - Freeform, faerie!merlin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-09-01
Packaged: 2018-02-08 12:04:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1940388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winchemrys/pseuds/winchemrys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The other Faeries think he's funny looking, what with no wings and his bare skin. Weak. Plain. Emrys thinks the sun-haired one is rather intriguing. Fascinating, in fact. Perhaps a tad funny looking, but it's not the boy's fault he was born a Human. There's also a sense of familiarity about him too. Danger, but familiarity. One cannot simply forget locks as golden as his. And Emrys has seen them somewhere before... he's certain of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. What Golden Locks You Have

 

 

 

> _"I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream_  
>  _I know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam_  
>  _And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem_  
>  _But if I know you, I know what you'll do_  
>  _You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream..."_
> 
>  

-*-

The other Faeries think he's funny looking, what with no wings and his bare skin. Weak. Plain. Emrys thinks the sun-haired one is rather intriguing. Fascinating, in fact. Perhaps a tad funny looking, but it's not the _boy's_ fault he was born a Human.

Emrys had been perching in a fork of the large oak tree he favoured, right along the edge of the forest. It had dark, smooth bark and emerald-coloured leaves. The tree was so old, its branches nearly reached the ground, twisting and turning to form quite the lovely spot for sitting, pondering. And pondered, Emrys did. He had never seen a Faerie with yellow hair. He had seen a few ranges of black (like his own), and chestnuts, and even some with scarlet... but never yellow.

That was the first time the Human had caught his attention. It was while he was kneeling in his favourite spot in the tangling mess of branches, tending to his wings which were outstretched in front of him from behind, creating a shell 'round his lithe body, slender fingers flitting expertly to each feather. He was by himself as per usual, which he didn't mind. None of the others cared to wander so far from the lake anyhow. 'The plains are a bore and we have no reason to be any closer to those Uglies,' the others would always say (obviously, they did not take their duties as seriously as he).

The Uglies. The Humans. The _Enemy_ -

All three meant one in the same thing. But the old oak, despite its location, was a comfort to Emrys and he didn't care. He'd given up offering for them to come sit with him many winters ago. He liked the quiet anyway. 

This human, however, didn't look the least bit threatening once he'd first waltzed into Emrys' life. He was definitely male, young, and had no sour look on his face at a first glance. He also had no sharp weapons the Humans were so well-known for carrying around in the stories elders would tell, so Emrys decided to let him be. Instead of driving him away from the border, he had frozen and kept quiet. He was a guardian, of course, his duty was to protect all other creatures residing in the forest and keep the peace. But there was hardly ever anything to even protect against since the Humans had no interest in them lately (thankfully), and he had never seen a human up close before in his life. 

He peered down through the emerald-leaves, thankfully concealed by the shadows, in wonder. For some bizarre reason, Emrys felt no fear. He was only curious. Fine, a small part of him was wary of course, but his curiousity got the worst of him and he decided to edge  up to the open air for a closer look. The yellow-haired Human had stopped his wandering, panting from what Emrys had guessed had been his running, and had seated himself down on a boulder jutting out from the browning grasses. He was facing the forest as he caught his breath, muscled chest heaving. Emrys' oak was to his left slightly, so he was out of the Human's direct line of sight. 

Emrys was still mostly behind the thick canopy of leaves, resulting in a satisfactory hiding spot but still blocked his full view of the Human. He had no idea how well the Human's sight was, but judging by the way he nearly stiffened completely at the sound of thrushes flitting through the woods before him, he could definitely hear well.  

_If I move anywhere in the tree, he'll surely detect me._

But he couldn't stay in the tree _forever_. It was well past dusk now and the Human didn't seem to look like he was in a rush to be anywhere else. He needed to be back at the lake by twilight for his watch duty... Emrys let out a silent sigh of exasperation. He was over-thinking this too much. The Human wouldn't be able to catch him even if he  _were_  to be caught, anyhow. In flight, he was nearly unbeatable. One was named _guardian of the woodland realm_  for a reason, after all.

That was his decision then. To move away. To move where, however, was the next dilemma. He would make the most noise moving backward where the branches thickened out. He couldn't simply keep moving forward, stepping towards the human directly. Up and out it was. Emrys tucked his wings in as close as he could to his back so as to reduce the rustling as much as possible, and started climbing effortlessly up to the tree's crown. 

He sat atop the oak now, crouching and peering down. Now all he would need to do was hop down to the other side and make a quick departure, disappearing into the shadows of the forest. But something was stopping him. It was pulling. _Willing._ He couldn't tear his gaze away from the golden locks that now gave off a faint silvery glow from the unnecessarily bright moon that was emerging from behind the clouds. It was not quite dark yet, but the stars were slowly making their glittering appearances, one by one. A voice in his head urged him to get moving, get away and forget the Human, and make it to his post on time. 

His heart told him differently. Maybe Humans were not the monsters they all took them as for. The yellow-haired one below's face was slack in a relaxing, peaceful state, and his eyes seemed to be gazing wondrously into the woods, memorizing the contours of every leaf, but at the same time looking at nothing in particular. _Completely harmless_. It was almost like everything Emrys had ever learned had been wiped from his mind-

Then that irritatingly familiar feeling again: he wanted to ask this creature what he was running from; why he had searched for such a far away escape - no Humans lived close to the deserted plains. The strange sensation of concern felt ancient, as though it were an old, rather dusty instinct he'd forgotten about long ago and was blossoming inside of him once more.  _But I don't even know him!_  Though the problem was that he  _did_ know him, somehow. Long ago. Or perhaps it wasn't long ago at all. _Oh dear me.._

His head was spinning; there were too many things going through his mind. This was simply no feeling to ignore. Gods _help_ him, he was going to do it. _I suppose the thing seems harmless enough..._ Emrys wrung his hands together anxiously.

_Completely harmless,_

With a near audible  _gulp,_ the dark-feathered Faerie spread his large wings. In moments he was hovering in the air.

_Completely harmless,_

he kept telling himself, willing himself up and over the side of the oak. Then Emrys was floating down towards the earth, slowly, agonizingly slowly...

_Completely harmless,_

he repeated. His feet touched the ground. His back was curved ever so elegantly as he leaned over, still concealed in shadows. He retracted his wings.

_Completely..._

His heart hammered in his chest, the fear he then ignored now causing his skin to prickle. Fear and anticipation made his belly churn horribly. He took one step, trying not to tremble like a new-born infant.

The Human hadn't noticed him yet. One more step. What the hell was he even going to say? Emrys began to feel as though he were about to be sick. His magic swirled painfully inside him, pushing against his chest as if it were attracted to the human like some magnetic force, pulling him on against his will.

... _harmless?_

The Human twitched, whirling around to his left, eyes huge and very, very blue. Emrys almost stopped his breathing altogether. His head tipped to the side ever so slightly.  _Those eyes..._

Those _eyes_ had stupidly distracted him because the Human had now slid off the boulder and groped around the ground at his feet for a stone to raise above his head without Emrys even noticing. The Human stood up stiff in a defensive position, but completely still. 

 _ **Harmless?**_  

Poor Emrys had never been so wrong. 

He tried willing his swift wings to carry him far away, distance himself from the blue-eyed, golden-haired young Human. But they made absolutely no movement behind him. All he could hear was the blood pounding in his ears and all he could see were those stormy blue eyes, boring through his own. Something flashed briefly behind them, beneath the piercing fear:

Recognition.


	2. Of Cosmic Midnights

_Idiot. Idiot. You're a bloody idiot, Emrys._

No matter how many times he scolded himself, calling himself an idiot was definitely getting him nowhere. The Human was so tense, Emrys was almost afraid he'd lash out the second he made any slight movements. Both creatures seemed to be awkwardly stuck in their positions, frozen in time, as everything else in the world kept moving. Blue eyes staring.

In the golden-haired one's eyes, all Emrys saw was a dangerous mix of hostility and fear. _Obviously doesn't know how to deal with meeting strangers_ , Emrys thought to himself in a vain attempt to amuse himself. Was that unfair? Ah, he cared not. He couldn't help but feel disappointed in the Human's reaction, though. That he hadn't felt the same innocent curiosity Emrys had in seeing him. It was strange because Emrys didn't really _know_ this creature, yet it hurt in a way he, himself, didn't fully comprehend, as if he'd expected it to feel the same.

All of a sudden, the Human decided enough was enough and took a step forward, stone still raised above its head threateningly. It wasn't moving away, shockingly. _Brave little Beastie, aren't you?_ That was it then. He had to give it up. Emrys was in the air the next moment. The gust of wind that erupted around him as his wings unfolded from their hiding place behind him and cut through the air hit the Human, who was only a few arm's lengths away from Emrys. It pushed him back with such force that he landed on his behind with a surprised "Oof".

 _Up. Need to go up._ The dark Faerie felt safest in the air, where nothing else could touch him. No one else to speak to. Just the freedom of simple, fluid movement, where gravity meant nothing and the ancient, grand trees were only minuscule smudges below him.

Once he was a couple hundred feet in the air, Emrys let out a huff, catching his breath from the sudden rush of adrenaline that had driven him so far from the golden-haired being underneath. Once he finally looked back down, the only sound in his ears the gentle _swoosh_ ing of his flapping wings, the golden-haired being was no longer below him. Emrys narrowed his eyes, perplexed. He didn't think the Human could flit away so quickly - he would have had to cover a couple leagues to reach the forest on the other side, and Emrys was certain Humans couldn't be _that_ fast on foot. He scanned the plains, looking for any movement. Nothing. He let out a snort.

Did he frighten the intriguing creature so much? What was it about him that sent him scrambling away so rapidly? His large wings? The horns? Perhaps that was it. Yes, maybe it was the horns. Emrys reached up to stroke one self-consciously, pouting. Or maybe it was his _eyes_ , those ever-glowing blue orbs. Not quite the stormy blue of the Human's but more like the colour the sky is at the break of dawn. That moment when the sun is finally peeking over the horizon, but scattered across are the few stubborn stars left, still glittering determinedly on. Emrys' eyes always glowed in part with his power, with the magic that flowed through his veins as easily as his blood, just as every other Faerie looked. He had seen the Human's face long enough to note how his eyes held no magic in them. He didn't want to call them dull per say, they were _anything_ but, though that distinct sparkle of life and something more all known Faerie-folk who lived in the woods had was just... missing.

Were all Humans like that? Was that the reason behind their hatred of sorcery and magical beings? Their fear of anything different from themselves? Anything unique? Was their magic stolen from them? The elders used to say it was possible for one's magic to be stolen. Perhaps Humans were the same as them once, and they just forgot what it was like to be born naturally with magic.

The thought saddened Emrys. Perhaps it was all out of ignorance. They did not understand Faeries and everything magic the same way he did not understand Humans fully. Whatever the reason, he wished it weren't so. He couldn't bear to think about a life without magic - magic was everywhere, lived in everything. That thought alone made Emrys feel cold and empty, just as how he pictured a magic-free world would feel.

The only physical thing separating the two groups of creatures were the plains, and there wasn't even a wall or specific boundaries on either side. Yes, that dark castle peeking over the treetops in the distance on the other side was guarded by high, unwelcoming walls, but Emrys never knew if the reason lay in the constant mistrust of the Faerie-folk from Humans or not. Besides that, it appeared as though anyone could step onto the plains. It just seemed those who had been brave enough to wander past the dry grasses and onto unfamiliar land had been gone for a very long time. The wondrous skirmishes and battles that had taken place on the lands below Emrys, and they were so long ago, that one would not have heard of them, had not the elders insisted on keeping that part of history in their stories. Some called the battles magnificent, but Emrys only felt lost when he thought of them. There hadn't exactly been any explanations for anything in regard to their history lessons. Why had there even been a war? What could have happened to have such a negative outcome of it? Faerie-folk and Humankind had not been full of hate for each other the moment they came out of the womb, _surely_. Emrys knew _he_ had not, at least. He had to be sure enough that his companions had felt the same. Wasn't that the point of stories? Of Legends? To teach, and educate, and learn through? 

But that didn't make much sense either because all the legends taught were to hate. To hate those that were different from themselves. The creatures that had no magic, because the wingless beings they never interacted would take any chance to persecute their people, to kill them. But _why_? Oh dear, all these questions were making his head hurt. With a short grunt of irritation, Emrys took his leave high up in the air, soaring low enough now that he could only just skim the treetops. He inhaled the refreshing, cool air, feeling his head buzz with a little more clarity. Night had fallen quickly and now most stars were dusting the night sky, sparkling and glittering like they always do. Unchanged. 

At least _something_ in this world wouldn't change. Emrys smiled to himself now, great wings hardly making a sound as he cut through the air on his route to the lake. Stars would never change. The sky never really did, did it? Of course, there were days when it decided to be shy and hide away behind the grey and white clouds that rolled overhead from the eastern mountains. The _clouds_ came and gone, were simple obscurities, blocking out the only sources of light the nighttime held, but the stars came out every night, just as the moon did. Alright. So Emrys had found _one_ comforting thought, so far. He glanced upwards, unresisting to the dazzling crystals burning so far from the world. The sound of his feathers fluttering ever so slightly as he glided through the air comforted him. He smiled. 

During his watch, his head was filled of silly, mystical, strange things. Of starlight and moonlight and stormy blue eyes and golden locks of hair...

* * *

 

Arthur stood up, emerging from being plastered behind the boulder, legs almost creaking audibly for being bent and frozen still for so long.

He had to make sure that  _thing_  was gone before moving again. He leaned on the boulder with his left hand as he stretched each leg in turn, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Not too many things scared him and he never felt so frightened in his _life_ -

No, he has. Arthur wasn't _that_ self-righteous, no matter how many times Gwen may have pointed it out. This was to be added to the list of frightening things, then. Not that anyone needed to know of it. 

That creature. Was that what a Faerie was, then? It had been hard to wrap his head around the idea at first, while he'd been pressed against the rock, alone with his thoughts. All he knew about Faeries was that they _should_ have been more beast than man, with giant fangs for teeth and rabid, ruby-coloured eyes. The one that had approached him ever so timidly had neither. It didn't even seem all that beastly, if he was going to be honest. It almost looked afraid of _him._ Which made no sense, given the fact that Arthur was unarmed, with no fancy armour on as well. _Well, that threatening-looking stone I picked up didn't exactly help..._

He tried to convince himself it had been out of self defence, he really did. But Arthur couldn't bare being unfair about the whole thing. He picked up a rock, ready to, essentially, hurl the object straight at that poor creature's _head_. The creature held no weapon, either, which would have been completely dishonourable for Arthur to try and kill it for no reason. It wasn't a deer that was meant to be hunted and eaten. It was just... approaching. _Creeping_ couldn't quite be the word for it, really. The Faerie, if it really  _was_ a Faerie, was out in the open, coming up to him, with nothing but a sense of curiosity. It had risked everything just to look at him. It probably felt the same sense of wonder for Arthur as he had for the creature. 

Arthur sighed in exasperation, staring into the trees again, this time wondering where that creature had disappeared to. The creature with the magnificent wings. He didn't get much of a chance to take a really good look at them but the creature's departure was good enough. Following his frantic scramble to hide behind the boulder, he had stared up in shock, catching how the outer feathers glowed in their transparency against the silvery light penetrating them. It was hard to look away, really. In the poor lighting on the ground, it was hard to make out the colour, but he had concluded they were definitely a dark-ish shade of something. They had been magnificent, really. Arthur had never seen wings so large.

As stupid as the thought was, Arthur hoped that would not be the last encounter he had with the Faerie-thing. It was - _he_ was? - simply a stranger, and frankly none of his business, but he didn't seem to mind that. It was just so _different_ and strange and unearthly. And there was something in its eyes. Once again, thanks to the fact that it was dark and not day, he couldn't make out the shade of its eyes. But something sparkled in them in a way that made Arthur's chest tighten and his belly flutter on the inside. It was a strange feeling, to want to see whatever it was he saw in those strange eyes again. He wanted to figure it out, what it meant. He wanted to know more about the creature. The sound of its voice, the look of its face when in proper sunlight... The colour of its eyes. It had appeared and left all too quickly, which wasn't _exactly_ fair to Arthur. After all, he didn't actually want to scare it off, he had just been startled. Arthur wasn't stupid. He knew there was something about that creature. Something long forgotten, but _something_ still. That meant this random, spontaneous moment of their meeting had to have _meant something_. The creature had to have felt the same thing, or else it would not have stalked up to him the way it did. 

Arthur was sat on the boulder for hours that passed without counting as he thought about everything, rolling the stone in between his hands; he felt no fear at being so close to the magical woods, just... lost. He supposed how much he was obsessing over the creature wasn't normal. But this hadn't been a normal encounter between two strangers. 

 _Who_ are _you?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you for all who are interested in my story!  
> Now after getting this puppy up, I've figured it out: me and a writing schedule are a bad idea. Why, you may ask? Because it doesn't friggin work. So basically what I'm saying is that I have no idea what the time spaces between each chapter will be, but I will try to work on that!
> 
> Reviews and advice are welcome! 
> 
> ______________________  
> All characters mentioned (Merlin/Emrys, Arthur Pendragon, etc.) belong to the BBC, taken from the Arthurian legends.  
> Inspired by Disney's Maleficent and Merlin BBC


	3. It's Only Blood; I Just Need To Rest

***WARNING: major spoilers for the series finale from here until the second line break***

 

 

_:: Three Days Later ::_

* * *

 

_"We-You can't ...not without the horses.." a voice that was not his own, was speaking. To him? He had to suppose it was, who else was there? It felt as though he was with the voice, and yet, in another world entirely. He didn't like this feeling. Not one bit._

_Panting. He was panting hard with the weight of something heavy beginning to fall limp against his chest the moment his knees hit the ground. His thighs lit up in pain at the impact, though it hardly registered to him because there were_ two _sets of heavy breathing in the cool, night air as two bodies fell to the grass._

 _"It-It's too late. It's too late," the weak voice sounding just below his chin was strong... familiar, and so, so tired. But what was he talking about; 'too late'? For what? There were random little pauses as the voice sounded, as if pausing to breathe every few words. Emrys had a terrifying feeling the voice belonged to someone who was seriously injured. A hand dropped down on his own, as if in silent reassurance. Reassurance of_ what _? Why was this happening? Why did he suddenly feel so upset over the simple movement? But the body kept babbling nonsensically. "It's ...too..." More strangled breaths. "All your magic, Merlin. You can't save my life." There was a hint of humorous admiration there._

 _Wait. Who's_ Merlin _?_

_"I can."_

_Now that was his own voice now, but he still felt confused. Who was this stranger in his arms, and why did he seem to feel like he'd known him for as long as he could remember? The hand that had been holding his own hadn't left its place. Below his own, he could feel something hot and wet, something he really did_ not _want to acknowledge as anything close to scarlet blood, soaking through a hard, rough material - almost metallic. Was it chain-mail? Breath. "I_ can  _... Not gonna lose you," he finished, sounding a lot more determined than he felt._

_The body slumped on his only broke his heart with his next few, strangled words: "Just... Just..." Breath. "...hold me. Please," the body below him begged, nearly a whisper now, ignoring him, trying to speak over his own strangled panting, stirring the dirty blond hair resting just below his lips. Yellow hair, that had once shone with a radiance that he was sure could defy the sun itself..._

_Alright, there was_ definitely _something strange about this. Really, really strange. Why was he crying? He made no sounds, but he certainly felt wetness trailing down his own cheekbones and the burning in his eyes. He felt like any prospect of the other person in his arms_ not _being there,_ alive, breathing and smiling _, would be too much for him. It would be worse than ripping out his own heart, straight from his chest. Worse than death itself. He tried to swallow, but it was like his throat had closed up tightly, as though any other sound he would make would end in a hideous sob._

_"There's... s-something I want to say," the man that lay limply overtop him breathed in a small voice. "S-Something.." Breath._

_"You're not going to say goodbye." Emrys felt himself nearly shudder at the demand he just made. He really hated goodbyes._

_"No... no." He shook his head, tipping it up as it slid down his chest to his shoulder to look him in the eye. Two sea-blue orbs bore into his, and their faces were suddenly a lot closer than he recalled. Those eyes looked so tired. "Merl-" He took in another breath, chest heaving terribly. "E-Everything you've done. I know now." His skin was a near ashen colour. He was so pale, this man he held in his arms. Something inside him twisted horribly, as if knowing it was a sickly disgrace compared to his healthy skin tone - a radiant, golden glow. It looked as though each word sucked more energy from him. "F-for me... For Camelot," he was wheezing now. Emrys -_ Merlin?  _\- was leaning over him, so close to an extent that he could feel the hot breath of the man he was holding onto so tightly. "The kingdom you h-" Breath. "-Helped me build."_

_"You'd have done it without me," he pointed out lightly, not wanting any sort of credit from him right now. But what was the credit even for? What had he done? Emrys' head was starting to hurt. It was like his lips were moving without his mind telling them to._

_There was a smirk as though saying 'bullshit' through one look (it was definitely not the first time he'd done it, then), then a pain-filled grimace on the golden-haired man's face. "Maybe." He looked up towards the stars thoughtfully, eyes glazing over for a moment. Then he forced the next words out. "I want... t-" Breath. "...to say something I've... never s-said to you before." Breath, breath. His eyes slid from gazing upwards to looking him right in the eye. He sounded so earnest and desperate when he simply whispered, "Thank you."_

_The hand resting on his own now moved to cup the back of his head, fingers threading through raven-black hair tenderly. He could feel himself curling into the touch, could feel the love and trust and gratefulness that was essentially pouring out of the man through the small, simple gesture. Then a minuscule, soft smile tugged on the once-golden man's lips, not looking away from his own face. He wanted that moment to last forever. It did not._

_The moment the man's eyes started to glaze over again, unfocussed once more, and eyelids droop shut slowly, was the moment his own world came crashing down. "Arthur, hey," he whispered, not fully ready for what was happening. "_ No _,"_   _he murmured firmly, mostly to himself. No response._

 _"No. Arthur," he begged quietly, the body losing every ounce of strength it once had, almost slipping to the ground completely were it not for the stubborn arms wrapped around him. Emrys, Merlin, cupped the side of the man's face, thumb trailing over one pale cheekbone._ This can't be happening. No, no, not yet. Not... please... Wait for me, you have to hold on, just hold on, you utterly _stupid_ prat, we're gonna make it-

 _"Arthur!" he suddenly yelled in his desperation. He shook the dying man he held in his arms a little too roughly. They were so, so_ fucking _close. So CLOSE._

 _All of a sudden, the noise must have stirred the man into coming back, the man called Arthur, because his eyes flew open, mouth ajar slightly as if attempting to drink in one more mouthful of oxygen._ He's alive! Thank all the gods, Emrys, Merlin, still had a chance. _"Hey... Stay with me," he mumbled, stroking his cheek, putting on a brave smile. He'd do anything to have him not slip away again. Arthur stared back at him blankly, and in that moment, he could see something, that may or may not have been imagined, other than pain in those blue eyes. Happiness. Staring at the last thing he's presumably looked at: Merlin. Then they drooped shut again - for the last time. The blood pumping through Emrys became too loud in his ears as he tried to move positions to lay him fully down on the grass and free his limbs so he could hold Arthur's face properly. He couldn't let go. The idea of letting go of Arthur was worse than dying. Well, apparently it was to Merlin._

_"Arthur!" he demanded once more. But instead he clutched onto his abdomen tightly, letting out a loud, strangled sound. He didn't know what to do... and kept on letting out frustrated cries. He tried lifting Arthur up, but the deadweight in his arms was too much and his vision was blurring from the fat tears he could no longer suppress. "Arthur-Arth-" he yelled, angry at everything and everyone all at once. At himself, for not being strong or quick enough. At the fact that the Isle had to be so bloody far and in the middle of a bloody lake. At Mordred. At Morgana. At that stupid, broken piece of blade that had lodged itself stubbornly inside Arthur's heart, bleeding him out. At Arthur for not fighting it just that tiny bit longer._

_His heart was near bursting in his high-tempered fit; wailing and babbling nonsense and screaming out his fury and misery. He sucked in a huge breath as he shouted out towards the heavens through the sobs that racked his chest, voice emanating with an air of power, "O drakon, e male so ftengometta tesd'hp'anankes!" The rumbling language felt ancient on his tongue, yet the words had come to him easily, as though he had always known them. He was summoning something - a beast. A powerful, ancient beast. He didn't know who else to call to. There_ was _no one else._

_He pulled his other arm out from underneath to hold Arthur's head as if he were the most precious thing in the world. Which, to him, he most certainly was at that moment. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against Arthur's. He forcibly breathed through his nostrils as his silver tears spilled onto those pale cheeks, feeling his body start to tremble. His throat was now soar from straining his vocal chords so much in the past few minutes._

_He looked up once he heard a thunderous roar in the distance. He was coming. Kilgharrah would help him, surely. There was no other way to get to the Isle of the Blessed. He had ran out of time, but that still didn't mean he'd give up on Arthur-_

_The_ whoosh _ing of gigantic wings sounded above him, readying to land. They stirred the air all around him, ruffling his clothes and both his and Arthur's hair._

 _Wait. Where were his_ own _wings?  Wasn't he supposed to have-_

 _**  
** _ ***End of warning***

__

* * *

 

Emrys spluttered awake, gasping for breath. His heart was pounding at the near speed of light, caged in his chest. His magic reacted instantaneously to the sudden adrenaline rush, fuelled through his faux fear and desperation, causing the ground to shake below him. The leaves surrounding him quivered at the vibrations, a couple bursting completely from their branches into tiny, glowing green specks. He had been lying hidden in his oak tree for the third night in a row, obviously having fallen asleep at last. 

Ever since his encounter with the Human, he hadn't been sleeping. He had felt restless and was constantly distracted. Others pointed it out, lightheartedly asking if he'd eaten a wrong mushroom. But he kept to himself, mostly. That was three days ago, and it seemed the one night he finally found rest, he was plagued by nightmares. He'd dreamt up plenty strange scenarios in the past, but nothing like what he'd just witnessed inside his head. 

Why was he dreaming about the strange Human he'd only seen _once_ in his lifetime? What could that possibly mean? His left wing twitched; he was itching to be in the air. Once he'd caught his breath, he pushed himself up towards flight. Wings outstretched, he hovered a foot over the treetop before starting his ascent. He beat his wings quickly, needing to be as high as they could take him.

Why had he dreamt himself without wings? He didn't feel his horns either, he noted, when "Arthur" was holding his own head. It was as though... as though he was simply a Human. He was surprised to find that he wasn't instantly disgusted at the thought. No, he couldn't have been Human because his magic was still there, in that strange other-world. He'd felt it in his very soul. He'd felt it when he called to the beast.

There were so many questions now-

Who was Arthur to him? Why was he so desperate to save his life? Who had hurt him? Was _that_ Arthur supposed to be the strange Human from three days ago? Why was he so angry at those called Mordred and Morgana? Why did he feel so lost in that world? Where had his wings gone? What was Camelot? How did Arthur have a kingdom? When did he become a ruler of any sort of land? What was so special about a placed called 'The Isle of the Blessed', and what was it supposed to do for him? Who was Kilgharrah? Why had his name in that world been the name of a type of falcon-

Emrys groaned. He wanted to rip all his hair out at that very moment. _Merlin_. It certainly was a strange name. He wanted to call it silly, but felt it almost suited him. Sure, it was unique, but in a good way. " _Merrr_ -lin," he tested it out, feeling juvenile the moment he did it. Then, in a quieter voice, he murmured, "Arthur..."

He didn't know when exactly he'd landed but he was walking now, unable to shake the dream as he wandered blindly. Was that even a dream? It had _felt_ like a nightmare. In no way was it pleasant in the slightest. He shivered, remembering the horrid way his voice had broke, how wrecked he'd sounded as he called out to Arthur, screaming into the night air. He remembered the coldness he felt when he got no response. How lonely and scared he felt. How he'd ruined everything. How he'd failed Arthur. 

* * *

 

Arthur's eyes flew open, wide and unblinking as he woke from darkness. He sat up, hand flying to cover his mouth as he forced the sobs down, hoping he didn't make any unmanly squeals in his sleep. He tried to calm himself down, tried to say _it was just a dream, it was just a dream,_ but his fingers still trembled. He could feel the corners of his eyes fill with tears and he wiped them away in frustration.

He wrapped the thready blanket around himself, feeling cold. His pants were softer now but he still couldn't calm himself down. He had been _dying._ He had been dying and another version of himself's memories were literally flashing before his eyes in his last moments. He relived every single one. All were random but held one thing in common. They contained the same face he had been staring up at before black swallowed his vision. Some were bittersweet, some were amusing, many were saddening, and he hated all of it. Arthur couldn't stand it because just as he felt himself finally begin to forget about that strange creature he'd met on the edge of the woods only a few days prior, there he was again. There he was, larger than bloody life, minus the wings and horns, but exactly the same. He had been the one holding him, trying to save him. 

He lowered himself back down along the straw mattress, mind reeling. He was exhausted, and let his eyes shut once more, relishing the fact that he needn't be up until the later hours of the morning. It was still dark so he assumed it was still very early. Only in his last moments of consciousness did he notice he now knew his mysterious Faerie's name.

Merlin. It made sense, in some crazy way. From what he could remember, the Faerie's large, dark wings had a falcon-like appearance. Arthur wanted to brush it off as a simple coincidence but this was becoming more than a peculiar meeting between two strangers on the borderline of their lands. Besides, their last moments together in his dream were way too intimate and intense to be forgotten easily. 

" _Mer_ lin," he mumbled. He smiled to himself sleepily. He was already planning how to find the strange creature again as he fell asleep. He wasn't going to put it off any longer. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Radical Face's "All Is Well (It's Only Blood)"
> 
> Man this one took quite a while. Sorry 'bout that!  
> Special thanks to all my friends that kept bugging me for this chapter (you know exactly who you are, girls). You were what got me to write (at very ungodly hours of the night) when I wanted to give this up totally. All my love to you!
> 
> Feedback is always welcome! All mistakes are my own.
> 
> _________________________________
> 
> All characters mentioned (Merlin/Emrys, Arthur Pendragon, etc.) belong to the BBC, taken from the Arthurian legends.  
> Inspired by Disney's Maleficent and Merlin BBC


	4. All These Restless Conversations

 

 

 

> _"You taught me the courage of stars before you left._   
>  _How light carries on endlessly, even after death._   
>  _With shortness of breath, you explained the infinite._   
>  _How rare and beautiful it is to even exist._
> 
> _I couldn’t help but ask_   
>  _For you to say it all again._   
>  _I tried to write it down_   
>  _But I could never find a pen._   
>  _I’d give anything to hear_   
>  _You say it one more time,_   
>  _That the universe was made_   
>  _Just to be seen by my eyes."_

 

 

_The first thing he hears is wood crackling and snapping. He smells it burning, consumed by ruby flames licking at each branch arranged in the campfire before him. Emrys is kneeling in front, tending to it in the middle of what looked like an encampment. The small clearing is absorbed in a soft, orange hue. He seems to be surrounded by what looked like a forest. Physically, it paled in comparison to... what again? Wait, this wasn't home-  
_

By the _gods_ , how many times is this supposed to happen? _This time it didn't take much at all for him to figure out whether or not this was a dream. It most certainly was. But this time, it felt different._

 _"Everything here," his lips, unfortunately, were once more moving without his willing. The Emrys of this world, this... Merlin... seemed to know this world's Arthur. He knew him well enough that he felt_ comfortable _enough to speak his mind. Which, apparently, was what was happening right now._

_"...so full of life." He was gazing up through the treetops, marveling at every little detail in each leaf, branch..._

_He wasn't looking directly at him, but just the familiar presence of him told Emrys - no,_ Merlin _\- that it was Arthur he was speaking to. In fact, he was lying on his back, staring up at the stars above thoughtfully, only just glancing at him the moment he starting talking. He seemed to be wearing wartime attire. Or, what the Emrys in the back of Merlin's head was assuming was wartime attire; silver chainmail covering all patches of skin below the neck, near shimmering in the moonlight. His hands, donned in black, leather gloves, were laced together atop his abdomen. He lifted his head, that familiar, yellow hair somewhat duller than the first time the real Emrys had noticed it. He seemed a tad dirt spattered, bedraggled, tired. How long had they been travelling in the forest?_

_Merlin continued to speak. Emrys listened.  
_

_"Every tree. Every leaf... Every insect," he murmurs. There's a beat, then, "It's as if the world is... vibrating. As if everything is much more than itself." Merlin looks at Arthur, who's already staring right back at him._

_"You feel all that?" Arthur remarks, sounding as if he's trying to believe him._

_There's a hint of a wonder-filled smile gracing Merlin's lips as he meets Arthur's azure eyes, the firelight dancing in their reflection. "Don't you?"_

_Arthur shakes his head, deadpan. Merlin's smile fades, looking away. He stands to make his way over to his own bedroll, already set up on the opposite side of the campfire, straight across from Arthur's. He sits down, now avoiding eye contact, his sudden passion-filled moment now gone. Arthur makes himself more comfortable as Merlin begins to lie back.  
_

_Merlin waits for a few heavy, quiet seconds. Then he says softly, "What will you do?"_ Do? For what? _Emrys did_ not _like not knowing what was going on._

 _"I don't know." Arthur pauses. The pause reminds Emrys of the breaths that had broke his sentences apart that day he lay dying in his arms. No... not_ his _arms. Merlin's arms. The yellow-haired human is staring into the fire. "My heart says do anything I can to save Mordred," Wait, Mordred? Why did Merlin feel so on edge at the mention of whoever Mordred was? His whole composure changes at the mention of his name and Emrys really didn't like that. "But I've seen what misery unfettered sorcery brings." He blinks, sighing slightly. "Before my father outlawed magic," Arthur looks back up at Merlin. "Camelot was almost destroyed by sorcery." He breaks eye-contact once more, obviously off-put by what he's talking about. "In my own time, Morgana's used it for nothing but evil..." He trails off, then looks back up at Merlin, who hadn't stopped looking at him since he sat down. "What would you do, in my place?"_

_"Me?" Merlin raises his eyebrows. "I'm just a lackey; maker of beds." His eyes, no longer happy and dazzling, are absent of emotions._

_"Lackeys can be wise."_

_Merlin doesn't look at Arthur, doesn't say anything at all. Arthur narrows his eyes.  
_

_"It's not like you to be silent." Arthur sounds genuinely concerned beneath his near bitter remark._

_"The kingdom's future is at stake." Merlin is unwaveringly quiet still._

_"And a man's life."_

_"You must protect Camelot and you must protect the world you've spent your life building - a just and fair kingdom... before-" He doesn't finish. Arthur knows._

_"You'd have me sacrifice a friend." Arthur doesn't sound surprised or outraged. He only observes out loud, still not looking away from Merlin, who was doing anything to meet his gaze, up until Arthur spoke again. Now, Merlin's gaze is steady, but blank._

_"I_ would _have you become the king you're destined to be." He was obviously not saying the whole story behind his reasoning. There was a much darker reason behind the fact that Merlin would rather Arthur not risk everything for this... Mordred._

_Arthur is no longer lying down - he pulls himself up into a sitting position, eyes fixated on Merlin, slightly puzzled. He inclines his head towards the man before him. "If I do save Mordred, all my father's work will be for nothing. Sorcery will reign once more in Camelot. Is that what you'd want?" Merlin was visibly troubled. His chest was now moving up and down as he took in deeper breaths, licking his lips anxiously, wishing this conversation to end. "Perhaps-" Arthur shrugs, "my father was wrong. Perhaps the old ways aren't as evil as we thought."_

Yes. Yes, that's exactly it! _Something inside of Merlin was screaming. But he also knew what had to be._

_Arthur continued, "So what should we do? Accept magic? Or let Mordred die?"_

_Why did it have to be like this? Why did_ Mordred _have to be the one dying that Arthur was so bent on saving? Why was it Merlin's job to make such a terrible,_ awful _decision?_ _The decision that was against what his heart truly wanted? He was feeling overwhelmed now, so frustrated that he couldn't explain everything, all whole truths, that he could feel burning in his eyes. He looked down at his lap, willing those damned tears not to fall. He wanted to shake Arthur by the shoulders and tell him why he shouldn't save Mordred, and why magic should come back to Camelot. He could not._ _  
_

_There was only one thing he could say. One thing that was so hard to say, just the thought of it made his chest clench in an unimaginable pain. He felt angry with himself, with Uther, with anyone who made Arthur feel the way he did, so doubtingly, about sorcery._

_The words he uttered broke his heart, just the same as when Arthur whispered his thanks moments before he died. He felt like an eternity had past as he built up the strength to say them. Arthur never stopped looking at him so intently, waiting patiently for his answer. Merlin was now leaning forward, swallowing hard. He finally met Arthur's eyes as he stated brokenly:_

_"There can be no place for magic in Camelot."_

* * *

 

 

It had been a fortnight since Emrys had first laid his eyes on the Human, and that had probably been the most unsettling, frustrating couple of weeks in his lifetime. He kept on having strange dreams. None of which were mindless, or enjoyable at all. No, he had to keep on being thrust inside "Merlin's" head, unable to control the emotions or thoughts he felt or had, and only feeling confused and completely lost each time he'd wake.

He simply did not understand. Were they memories? How was that possible? That wasn't his life! _This_ was his life! Not the life of a... what had been the word Merlin used?

A lackey. That was it. A servant. Someone that waited on another like a hound to its master. That was whoever Merlin was' life, not Emrys'. No matter how much something in the back of his mind wouldn't let it go, he wasn't going to accept that he knew Arthur, because he didn't.

Didn't he?

"Oh, this is ridiculous," Emrys snapped, unknowingly aloud, running his hands over his face in exasperation. He wished he could just _stop thinking_ for a few peaceful moments. All he wanted was a good night's rest, and that didn't seem to be in his foreseeable future until he got everything sorted out.

Emrys was perched in his tree, like he had been every day, attentive eyes peering right through the tangle of branches on the spot he'd last seen the Human. The only difference tonight, though, was the length of time he'd been waiting. A few hours had passed by since the sun had completely set, and he made no movements indicating he was moving. He knew he wasn't needed; the night was quiet and nothing seemed out of order on the other side of the trees.

What usually got him to leave his spot every night was how foolish he'd feel after spending at least one hour sitting, waiting for any sign that the Human would come back so he could question it. This time, however, he was determined to stay longer.

The most recent dream seemed to be troubling him the most. It made no sense, since he thought the one where Arthur had been dying would be the most upsetting. This past one just made him angry. Why had he lied to Arthur? Why couldn't he tell him his true feelings towards sorcery? What was wrong with Mordred? Who was he for Arthur to talk to about such an important decision? He was a lackey, after all, a servant. Apparently Arthur was a ruler, so _technically_ Merlin should be worth much less than him. His opinion shouldn't matter, but to Arthur in that world, it did. Emrys needed to know why. Perhaps that was the reason behind him bloody _dreaming_ about the man every night since their awkward meeting.

 

_:: Three Hours Later ::_

 

His legs were well past cramping from sitting still so long, awaiting the arrival of someone whom of which he didn't even know whether or not would come to the spot he hoped he would. He didn't even let himself up to stretch his wings, fearing once he was up, he'd take flight, look down on the lifeless plains and leave. Emrys had talked himself out of leaving, of giving up, many times, forcing himself to stay put. Maybe he missed the Human everyday because he hadn't been waiting long enough. Perhaps the Human, as foolish as the thought was, did the same as him every night, but Emrys was missing him _every time._

Was the Human dreaming about his other self as well? Were they both having the same strange dreams, or different dreams that each of them only experienced alone?

All of a sudden he heard the crunching of dry grass beneath something heavy. Footsteps... those were definitely footsteps. Emrys, his breathing now erratic and rather loud, closed his mouth before his throat could feel any dryer than it already did. He swallowed down what felt like nothing rather hard, and he could _feel_ his heartbeat quicken. The magic that stirred inside of him was near buzzing in... whatever he felt. He couldn't tell if it were anticipation, fear, excitement...

Whatever it was, it was like nothing he'd ever felt before. Well, he _had_ felt it before. He'd felt it the night he saw the Human, golden-haired and all, for the first time. _It has to be him..._

He pulled himself up, stepping along a long branch reaching out, stopping just above the ground. He took each step with care, making sure not to slip. He didn't want to be in the air this time. He wanted to be at the same level as "Arthur". Was the Human's name even Arthur? In Emrys' visions, he had a completely different name. Perhaps that was the case for him as well. 

He'd reached the tip of the branch, the long extension hardly budging beneath his weight. He dropped softly to the ground, almost forgetting to breath once the fact that he was on the same level as the Human started to overwhelm him.

 _Deep breath..._ His mother's gentle voice echoed around in his head, straight from a memory so old he'd thought it forgotten until now. He used to be so scared of the darkness night brought, so unwilling to join her in the air when he was only just learning how to work with his wings. He used to be so scared of the mere thought of flight, of not knowing where to place your feet. But it was always her voice that comforted him. It was always what managed to bring him back to the present and focus, trust himself, and just let himself go and _feel_. 

It's just a Human- 

He laughed at that. Only weeks ago he was enamoured completely by something so foreign and strange. Now, granted after dreaming about the thing constantly (and obsessively), it seemed too ordinary, too fast... "just a Human".

  _...and let it out..._ Emrys remembered flying for his very first time. He had been so young, so small. His mother, unlike most in the enchanting woods he called home, who would wait farther away from their offspring, forcing them to join their mothers, had held his hand the entire time. When she saw him lose himself in panic after only a couple awkward  _flap flaps_  with absolutely no form whatsoever, she only held him tighter and whispered in his ear until he closed his eyes, inhaled slowly, letting the oxygen cause him to feel only just lightheaded, before trying again.

He worked on keeping his breathing pattern relatively normal, hoping he wouldn't swoon like a child in the face of "Arthur". He took one step, and in that one small movement, his mind was flooded with memories of the night he'd first laid eyes on that golden hair... took those first timid steps towards "Arthur". As if an ancient power, and _will_ of some sort, was pulling him along without his permission. As if he had to look at "Arthur" and he had no other choice.

The figure, outlined by the silvery glow cast by the moon directly above the both of them, was standing tall. He was not sitting, like last time. How Emrys knew it was _him_ that moment, he was not sure, and scolded himself for not being cautious enough before approaching the figure so quickly. The proud, confident composure "Arthur" held himself gave Emrys a boost of confidence himself. A breeze was picking up from across the plains, and Emrys did not miss the way it stirred the golden locks arranged atop the Human's head. The gentle winds were relaxing and calming on this warm night, and Emrys never broke stride as he made a beeline towards "Arthur" this time. 

It didn't take long for the Human to hear him. 

Emrys' heart leapt into his throat the moment "Arthur" whirled around to face him. This time, however, he reached for no stone. No, but just as that thought became a comfort, Emrys' blood ran ice cold as the Human reached for something hanging at his hip. It was long, thin, and whatever the material was that created it reflected the moonlight, momentarily blinding the Faerie as it was unleashed from its sheathe. 

"Arthur" held the thing in his hand steadily, thrust out before him. Emrys, not used to seeing such Humanly things, but also not an idiot, paused, and raised his hands. "Arthur" caught him moving them and tossed the thing from each hand to another, as if reminding the Faerie he was holding it, but Emrys never stopped until his hands were raised before his chest. _I have no weapon, you impatient thing. If that_ is _a weapon..._  He even made sure his wings were curled tightly behind him so as to make him seem smaller. Submissive. He hated acting this way, but if this was how he was to gain "Arthur"'s trust, then so be it.

He swallowed hard. One more _deep breath._  

He tipped his head to one side, narrowing his eyes in scrutiny as he studied the Human's rather unkempt appearance.

When he opened his mouth, he made sure to speak slowly, and clearly. "I don't mean to harm you," he stated. Then, just because this "Arthur" looked rather ridiculous holding that grey stick in his hands, he added, "...turniphead." He shut his mouth immediately. _Turniphead?_ That was possibly the _strangest_ insult he'd ever thought up... one he'd never uttered aloud in his life. Yet, somehow, it felt natural, aimed at "Arthur".

The look on "Arthur"'s face would have sent him into a fit of laughter had he not still been holding the grey stick. His eyes widened so much so that Emrys could see their whites, and his jaw fell open, slack in shock. He righted himself soon after, though. "You..." Emrys was instantly attentive once more. That voice... just the same as in his dreams. "You can talk," he remarked, rather stupidly.

This time Emrys let out a slight snort, holding back the chuckles. _Idiot._ "Well, what did you think was going to happen when I opened my mouth, foolish Beastie? A cloud of smoke?"

Arthur narrowed his own cornflower blue eyes. "You-" He let out a huff, slowly lowering the grey stick. He shook his head, staring at the ground. "Well, I just didn't expect..." 

"What?"

"F-For you to sound... so..."

Emrys quirked an eyebrow. "Hm?"

"...normal."

"And this is what's normal to you then?"

"Well," Arthur trailed off, then shrugged, as if lost. He gestured to Emrys, saying, "Well, I mean, not exactly." He paused. "You have... horns," he says rather bluntly.

Emrys rolled his eyes. _Really? Thank you, darling, I never noticed them._

The Faerie then noticed he was hunched over in the way he had been their first night, and straightened, feeling much more unafraid of this Human than he had been previously. He crossed his arms along his chest, studying "Arthur" first, then the stick thing. "What is that?" He blurted.

"Arthur" looked rather puzzled before remembering that the stick was still in one of his hands. "Ah this." He slid it back into place at his hip before letting his arm go slack at his side. Emrys watched every movement, marvelling at the very fact at how different they moved as creatures. 

He listened as the Human called the stick thing a "sword" and it was made out of a type of metal called iron. Emrys knew what iron was, but no one used it much anymore. It was used as body protection, really, long ago, when the war still raged on. But that was history. "Arthur" explained what it was for; self-defense, wounding others. Emrys winced visibly when he explained how exactly a sword can hurt someone, or something. He decided he wanted to change the subject of conversation quickly.

"May I ask you something?" he interrupted, cutting right into how Arthur was showing him how to hold the sword. The Human raised his eyebrows. 

"Go on, then."

"Your name... What you're called..."

"...Yes, what about it?"

"Is it Arthur?"

The Human only answered with silence. He took one step back, eyes filling with an emotion Emrys could not place in the poor lighting.

Arthur's response was only just a hushed whisper. "...Merlin?"

* * *

 

"...So let me see if I've got this right."

Arthur was seated on the hard ground with his legs splayed before him, leaning back on his hands. Emrys sat opposite him cross-legged, threading a few blades of grass into a braid aimlessly as he regarded Arthur with slight amusement. 

"...Your name's _Emrys_ , not Merlin. You had no idea what a sword was until I told you. You also don't know what shoes are, given the state of your feet. You can speak English just as easily as I... There are apparently hundreds of other types of Faeries living on the other side of those trees I've never even heard of, you've seen 'eighteen winters' which means we're nearly the same age-"

"Wait. We are?"

"Yeah."

"How old are you?"

"I'm about one year older than you. So yeah, you could say we're the same age."

"Huh," Emrys mumbled, forgetting the grass in his hands. 

"It's my turn for questions now, Emrys."

Emrys blinked, and simply waited.

"Can I trust you?" Arthur seemed as though he'd been keeping that inside of himself for a while. Emrys could feel the tension in the air the moment he said it.

"Yes."

"Well, that was rather quick. How do I know you're not lying?"

"I said yes, what more do you want, you dollophead-"

"-There's another thing. You keep on calling me names that are _not_ Arthur," Arthur remarked, crossing his own arms now. "First it was... what? 'Turniphead'." Emrys smirked. "What the _hell_ is a turniphead?" Arthur only appeared to be bemused. 

"I've got no clue, _Arthur._ " All Emrys _did_ know was that this silly bantering style of communication felt _natural_ and he _liked_ it. He was never this free with anyone. It was weird. "It just... felt..."

"Natural," Arthur voiced his thoughts exactly, and Emrys wasn't sure if he should be afraid of that or not. "I know... It's the same for me."

Now the stretched silence was back, with both at a loss for words. Why _was_ it so natural for the two of them? _Why?_ No eye contact was made, for Emrys was afraid he'd see something in Arthur's eyes he was too frightened to understand. Something inside of him was bubbling up uncontrollably though, and he could feel it begin to overflow in the painful quiet of the night.

Then, it exploded out of himself before he could control it: "I've had dreams about you." He hated how young and near inaudible he sounded.

But as he looked up, expecting to see shock, disgust, anything _sane_ he'd anticipated on Arthur's face, he was utterly astonished to see the opposite. Arthur seemed to be completely calm. He still said nothing, however, and Emrys felt like he would have started screaming at the Human to say anything at all before he opened his mouth.

"And I, as well," he said in a much deeper, steadier voice than before. "...About you, I mean."

"Why?" Emrys nearly begged; he hated not knowing the answer to things. Not knowing the answer to _this_.

Arthur let out a hearty laugh, looking up to gaze at the sky. "No idea." Emrys felt himself heating up with rage. Why wasn't he taking this seriously? "But it _is_ strange isn't it?" 

Emrys' right wing twitched. He said nothing.

"I mean... We'd only seen each other once here, then all of a sudden I'm _dreaming_ about you with me... Always _with_ me... In a place I've never seen before but felt more... more... so much _better_ than what home is here," he continued on, much softer now. "It just felt so different, but I've never felt more like myself than when we were there in every dream..." He paused, as if only just remembering he'd met Emrys twice. He looked back down, looking so lost and so confused so _quickly_ , that Emrys forgot any anger he had aimed towards Arthur. That strange instinct attuned so well for Arthur's well-being overcame him way too quickly and he surprised himself at the urge to go over and comfort Arthur the moment he looked into those cornflower blue eyes. "I'm sorry, I just- I-I'm sorry-"

"-No," Emrys cut in desperately, "I felt that way too." _This obviously_ means _something, no matter how completely insane it all is._ "I feel... um-"

"Can I look at your wings?" Arthur said suddenly. "You don't have to hide them from me." The golden-haired young man offered a warm, encouraging smile.

Emrys cocked his head to one side, wondering where this sudden courage came from after Arthur showed such vulnerability only moments ago. He picked himself up off the ground and moved to crouch a little closer to Arthur, bobbing over, anxiety and the need to take flight quickly clouding his judgement. No one ever voiced any interest in his wings. He wasn't sure if he even wanted Arthur any closer to such a sensitive area.  _No. I can trust him._  

They started to unfurl from where they sprouted out from his back, slowly. He placed his hands in his lap, praying Arthur couldn't catch them trembling. This was such an intimate thing to do, and he wasn't sure how he felt about it all. But it also felt right because _this_ was _Arthur._ They were soon outstretched before him in their magnificence. Arthur never tore his gaze from them, and waited for Emrys to indicate it was alright to take a closer look. When he did, the look of innocent wonder in Arthur's eyes seemed to de-age him so many years, Emrys had to remind himself that Arthur was not a child. Then one hand began reaching for the wing closest to him. Emrys did something that shocked even himself.

He lowered his head, giving Arthur better access. He gave him silent permission to touch it. Arthur broke into the most brilliant smile, and Emrys caught the glinting of blunt, white teeth. _No sharp fangs._ He smiled to himself. So it seemed the things he _thought_ he knew about Humans were not as he thought. Then he inhaled sharply at the first touch, warmth spreading through his body that was so uncomfortably tense beforehand, the soothing tingling a complete shock. Arthur stopped immediately, but didn't remove his hand, locking gazes with Emrys. 

Emrys' own eyes were blown wide at this new feeling, whites rimming his iris' clearly. Only _he_ had touched his wings before, through regular grooming and so on; always Emrys and Emrys alone. This was so different, this _sensation_. His magic was vibrating inside of him, more alive than it had ever been. He could feel it spill out of his being like water tumbling over rocks in a brook. He didn't break eye contact when brilliantly yellow tendrils of light and pure energy started swirling freely through the air around the two. He never flinched, though he knew his irises were alight with his own special magic; a molten, brilliant goId. He hardly noticed the next movement he made, as if in a trance. 

He outstretched his left hand, palm to the sky and without another thought, a shimmering, sapphire butterfly fluttered to life, flitting up towards the stars. It felt as though he'd done that before, forever ago. There were absolutely no words he could use to explain what he was feeling at that very moment. There were so many spoken and _unspoken_ words screaming, whispering in his ears all at the same time, so many moments, so many memories that were not his own... but _were_ his own. The feeling was so _incredibly terrifying_ because it was right then that he knew he truly had been reunited with someone that was much more than a stranger on the other side of the woods. 

He had been reunited with the the closest friend he'd ever had, the friend he'd lost so long ago and nearly forgotten. But alas, he wasn't forgotten, was he? Not completely. He could not simply dismiss the friend that he'd _gladly_ give his life for, which he _had_  - multiple times. The friend he was meant to protect. The friend he'd been an incomplete half without. 

No, their meeting was not by chance. 

It was destiny. _All over again._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took a while! (again) (whoops)  
> Quote taken from lyrics of Sleeping at Last's "Saturn". Chapter title from Sleeping at Last's "Timelapse".
> 
>  
> 
> "Writing is hard." Chuck, Supernatural. That's all I have to say.
> 
> _________________________________
> 
> All characters mentioned (Merlin/Emrys, Arthur Pendragon, etc.) belong to the BBC, taken from the Arthurian legends.  
> Inspired by Disney's Maleficent and Merlin BBC


	5. Unimaginable Light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EMRYS;; Celtic, Welsh form of AMBROSE.  
> In Welsh, the meaning of the name Emrys is "Immortal".
> 
> ARTHUR;; Derived from the Celtic elements artos, "Bear", combined with viros, "Man", or rigos, "King".  
> Meaning unknown.
> 
> PENDRAGON or PEN DDRAIG (pronounced THRAIG);; Meaning in Welsh "Head Dragon" or "Chief Dragon" (a figurative title referring to status as a leader).

 

 

 

 

> _May these words be the first  
> _ _To find your ears._
> 
>   
> _The world is brighter than the sun  
> _ _Now that you’re here._
> 
>   
> _Though your eyes will need some time to adjust  
> _ _To the overwhelming light surrounding us-_

 

* * *

 

_::_

_The earth lays low and soft, a quiet breath held deep within the soil, as magic coils tight within her roots._

_Waiting._

_::_

_The earth smiles when a golden child is born, but takes its birth-giver away from him, a blood sacrifice called Ygraine that must keep the balance of the world restored. That is the way of the world, the law of the Old Religion; to give life, one must be taken._

_The golden child cries out in the night, unaware why its father is screaming at every other figure around him for help, though lashing out like a cornered animal. Helpless. Confused._

_Ygraine is gone and the earth has gone to sleep at the beginning of an unknowingly dark age. The golden child's father blames her death not on loss of blood, not on the strain of exhaustion, but on the powerful force that conjured the child in the first place._

_The man blames sorcery because of his wife's passing. He does not marvel at how it created new life, which had been impossible for his wife all along._

_The man is angry. Very angry. His is blinded by it. One, once a friend, attempts to console him, calm him, to explain the laws of sorcery. She tries to say she had warned him beforehand._

_But the man's fury is all he feels. He assumes the woman trying to calm him had only betrayed him._

_Hatred-filled roaring erupts from the man, and it goes on for a long while. Friendships are shattered that night._

_The child cries still, but his father, the king, does not go to him. He never does. The earth is silent._

_::_

 

* * *

 

 

Emrys did not have any unpleasant visions of his so-called past days after he and Arthur's second, and proper, meeting. It was almost _alien_ for him to have a good night's rest. Which probably wasn't a good thing. 

Apparently, after a handful of meetings every night, Arthur shared that he had no more as well. He didn't exactly seem happy about that. Arthur said he would have wanted to see what they were like before when either of them _wasn't_ on their deathbed, extremely ill, or wounded. Emrys had laughed at that.

 

* * *

 

_::_

_The king reigns on, bringing only suffering upon his own land. The innocent are slaughtered. The Old Religion is banned. Members of Camelot live in a constant state of fear. His own people despise the sight of him._

_The prince flourishes, growing in strength. In youth, he trains hard for long hours, ignorant to the issues his people face. His people only watch in bewilderment at how much of a contrast he is to his own father. But there is a childish arrogance and temper in him that flares to life when he is finally confronted with his fate:_

_Merlin._

_::_

_With their first meeting, of prince and peasant, there are the first stirrings of renewal, and the earth grins._

_::_

 

* * *

 

Emrys is much more expressive with Arthur. He speaks with him easily, which is strange, considering the fact that he always comes off as reserved around other Faeries.

He teaches Arthur about magic, how it can be used for good. Arthur even learns a couple spells, but still marvels at how wonderfully _natural_ Emrys is with it. As if it is a part of his own soul.

 

* * *

 

_::_

_The Druids call him Emrys. Morgana knows Emrys as her destiny, her doom. The earth knows his heart however, and in his heart, he is only Merlin. Merlin is light to Morgana's darkness. He is clarity to Mordred's turmoil. Merlin is Magic to Arthur's Courage, and Gwaine's Strength._

_Merlin is magic itself and, to him, names are simply that: names. Titles. Emrys is a title, one of which he did not choose._

_::_

_"Sometimes I don't know what to think of my father's ban on magic," Arthur whispers deep in the night to Merlin, now his manservant, the one who will follow him anywhere, everywhere. He sits on the edge of his vast bed, half covered in his blood-red, silken sheets. He stares through the window across the room from him, the only natural light from the moon pooling onto the floor below it, besides the candles flickering, scattered in each corner. Merlin is gently blowing them out, one by one._

_Arthur recalls unsettling memories. The unicorn, the Druid boy, the pale blue orbs of light, every lucky break he's ever had... All the death, destruction, and hatred that have been a part of the fabric of his childhood haunt him in the dark canopy of his dreams._

_"You'll know," Merlin murmurs steadily, suddenly appearing before him. "One day you will... I promise." Merlin knew he was destined to be the greatest king Camelot was ever to know. His own destiny was to protect his king and lead him towards that path._ I have faith in you _goes unsaid as the servant smiles softly at his sovereign, holding one candle in his right hand, but he doesn't_ need _to say it. Arthur knows if there was only one person on earth left believing in him despite the others, it would be Merlin. The usual "get some sleep" and "call me if you need me, I'll be in the chamber next door" were uttered gently as the dark-haired young man blew out the last flame by the king's nightstand, taking the light in his hand with him as a guide through the blackness of the night in the castle._

 _Arthur watches his manservant's thin outline move silently out of the room from his bed; the_ only _manservant that had managed to worm his way into his life, and become the closest friend he would ever find (not that he would actually tell him out loud, of course). It was not uncommon for the prince to wonder, baffled, how his old friend had become so wise and remained so mysterious over the years underneath his bumbling, cheeky exterior._

_::_

_Years roll by and Merlin never leaves Arthur's side. Uther passes on, weakened by the unbearable grief a lost daughter once brought him. Prince Arthur's coronation brings on a new age, full of light._

_Years pass on still, and Merlin is consumed by his destiny before Arthur even understands his own, constantly worrying about his own reign; always questioning himself. Arthur would never fathom just how important he was to Merlin -- how much Merlin had sacrificed for him and his kingdom. Merlin gains power. Arthur gains courage._

_The young warlock and king's bond is unbreakable._

_::_

* * *

  

 

 

> _-I’ll give you everything I have._  
>  _I’ll teach you everything I know._  
>  _I promise I’ll do better._
> 
>   
> _I will always hold you close,_  
>  _But I will learn to let you go._  
>  _I promise I’ll do better._
> 
>   
> _I will soften every edge,_  
>  _I’ll hold the world to its best,_  
>  _And I’ll do better._
> 
>   
> _With every heartbeat I have left_  
>  _I will defend your every breath,_  
>  _And I’ll do better-_

 

 

* * *

 

Arthur tells Emrys about his family. He tells him about his father, how he was a member of the court years ago...

"'Court'?" Emrys interups.

"Yeah. In the castle."

"That big, dark thing over the hills?"

"Ah-- Yeah, Emrys. That _thing_ 's the castle--"

How he had been one of the people still believing Emrys' kind needed to be eradicated. 

He tells Emrys of his beautiful mother, with hair as golden as his own. He goes on about how she had such a lovely voice when she would sing to him every time he'd wake from nightmares. How his parents had fought mercilessly because she didn't agree with Arthur's father. _People that thought that way about things like you, especially members of the court, could get in a lot of trouble,_ Arthur had explained. Someone eventually found out. 

Arthur's father never stood up for his mother. He cared too much for his position. Arthur wanted to stay with his mother, but he had only been a small boy then and his protests meant nothing. He says he still remembers how hard his father's grip on his arm holding him back had been that day, as he was desperately reaching out to his mother being dragged from the room, screaming for her precious boy. He says he never saw her again after that. The whole lower town knew what had happened with the hour. He says he got away from his father as soon as he was able to, vowing to never step foot in that room ever again. He disguised himself as a simple peasant, never letting anyone find out he was the son of a noble. He worked as an apprentice under the town's blacksmith, which is also how he learned how to sword-fight.

He told Emrys he hated his father.

Emrys lays one hand on Arthur's shoulder and squeezes. Arthur looks up at him with very wet-looking eyes, tempted to cover the Faerie's hand with his own. His lips curve up in a half-smile at his winged friend, unable to speak of his past anymore.

They sit in silence for hours, watching the sun sink behind the huge, quiet grey castle in the west. 

 

* * *

 

::

_Merlin does not understand Arthur's foretold fate, and why it has to be so unfair. Why he could not fulfill his own destiny because it was Arthur's fate to die at Mordred's hand, even after all he tried to avoid it. He never does._

_The golden king slips away in the arms of the person that has always meant the most to him. The earth and magic take his soul, leaving his body cold to Merlin's touch._

I've failed... _he thinks, shivering._ I've failed you. I'm so sorry.

_::_

_Merlin's tears fall uncontrollably. The boat, blazing, slowly being consumed by the magically-summoned flames in the lake, falls out of sight in the smoke as it disintegrates. Merlin knows the world is unbalanced without the one who is essentially his other half._

_The world will have to wait for the Once and Future King to return and heal the land. The world will have to wait for Emrys to bring the age of magic back._

_The earth waits, preparing for her longest and coldest sleep._

_::_

 

* * *

 

One year passes. Arthur lives in the woods with Emrys. The other Faeries learn to accept the fact that Emrys had not gone insane all that time ago when he wasn't sleeping, and that the Human _wasn't_ going to chop them all up and cook them for stew. They still look at him warily in the long hours of the night when they're sitting by the lake sometimes, but they trust Emrys enough to trust Arthur. 

Emrys learns how the last king of the Humans had been assassinated by his own people. Something about him not caring enough for their concerns as they starved and he only thought about how to kill all the Faeries. Arthur's father, along with all other members of the court were picked off, one by one, over the span of two years. Arthur felt nothing when he learned of his father's death. The villagers lived in poverty still, Arthur had been one of them. It wasn't long after the king was "overthrown" when groups of bandits and slave-traders started appearing closer to the towns surrounding the castle. 

Chaos was, and still is, the one word to explain the state of the land past the plains, according to Arthur. 

Arthur says he can't stand the knowledge of the fact that all those people still live in suffering and fear, despite the fact that their tyrannic rule had ended so long ago and there wasn't any threat from beyond the plains. Emrys asks him if the king had had any children that were supposed to rule after him. Arthur tells him there were none.

 

* * *

_::_

_Merlin understands why he is called Emrys a century later, when he still looks just the same as he looked the day the king passed away. His own blood and old companions perish, and he cannot do anything to stop it. Their souls live on in peace across the lake while his own pushes on, his magic de-aging him throughout history._

_Time is no longer numbers to him any longer. Hours, Days, Years -- they mean nothing to him. Merlin becomes Emrys as a whole, embracing his immortality and the mere agony of it. His undying loyalty to his king pushes him on past the days where he'd consider forcing his own death. The prospect of welcoming King Arthur -- his Arthur -- back with open arms keeps him going._

_::_

_He has lived many lives in many worlds. Or perhaps they were all part of the same universe? Either way, he does not like to trouble himself with such thoughts._

_He never knows, but once he reaches the peak of each life, he recalls all his others, memories and emotions bombarding him as his Merlin searches desperately for Arthur, sometimes with the complete knowledge of who Arthur is, but occasionally with no idea. Once, they had found each other along the barricades during the French Revolution. Another time, they had smashed into one another on a cruiser set for the neighbouring galaxy, countless years into the future, the farthest Emrys could ever recall. Occasionally, their were things about each... world... that really set them apart from others. There had been one where he had absolutely no magic in him, which had been completely terrifying._

_Currently, he had wings and a set of horns._

_There have been many different time periods and circumstances, but the one thing that only ever felt real and complete was their time in Camelot, the beginning. Was it the beginning? Nothing was for certain. For all they knew, they could have met centuries before Camelot and they just didn't remember yet. The earth was always at its best when they were reunited. Magic always had to be there, whether that was literal or not both Arthur and Merlin created it themselves._

_Throughout some very significant lives, Emrys was called other things besides Merlin or Emrys. Sometimes it extended to Emrys Wledig, or Ambrosius Aurelianus. There had been Merlinus Ambrosius, or Myrddin Emrys. He had many titles. He was The Last Dragonlord. The Druids always had called him the Greatest Sorcerer To Have Lived._

_Arthur had called him, "Idiot", to which he would always shoot, "Prat," right back at him._

* * *

 

It takes a long while for Arthur to finally agree to Emrys' -- rather insane-- idea. When he does, he has the support of most of the magical, somewhat intimidating, residents in the woods.  
  
"All that's left is getting the support of your other wingless friends," Emrys remarks. Arthur swallows down the lump in his throat, shooting Emrys an uncertain glare. 

:: 

The bedraggled pair's arrival is not a secret for very long. Panic ensues at the sight of Emrys, and they rush to reassure the poor villagers that he's not there to harm them. That doesn't take very long, given the fact that these were the same people that murdered their king because he cared not for their well-being but for the purging of things like Emrys and everything magic. The two take the time to tell the people everything.

 

Emrys teaches them about magic. He amuses children by conjuring sapphire butterflies, and charms the young Human females by handing out all their favourite flowers. Their liking and trust towards Emrys grows within a fortnight of their arrival.

Arthur tells them about his plans to unite Humans and Faeries once more. He promises to defend them against the bandits, thieves, murderers, and thugs that were controlling the land, if he only had others to fight alongside him. Many volunteer to help, but there are still some who are wary. Others don't understand why some peasant boy can walk around promising them sweet-nothings, acting like the valiant knight he isn't. But Arthur's all they have, and so they say nothing. 

He begins to train those able and willing to learn how to fight with a sword, or ax, or with whatever they can find. Blacksmiths begin to fashion new weapons and -- very basic but effective -- armour again, and the metallic _ting ting_ of hammer against steel is heard throughout the lower town.

Word spreads through the land to each village, about a crazy peasant boy and a Faerie starting a revolution of sorts. More people move closer to the castle. Some men pledge allegiance to Arthur when they learn who his mother was. Arthur refuses, says he's not their king. The people have none of that. Next thing he knows, they're on their knees and he's moments away from passing out in shock. Emrys, Arthur's ever-steadying rock, squeezes his shoulder, whispering behind him, "Perhaps _this_ was your destiny _here_ , Arthur." 

Arthur hardly believes him at first, but eventually understands. Logically, there's no one fitter for the position of king -- the king never had any heirs of his own, and he's the last living member of the court, despite the fact that he had disappeared at the age of fourteen. But when it came to what it was exactly that he and Emrys were doing there, it made sense. Someone needed to lead these people, and if they all needed a king to bring forth a new reign, that was what he must be. 

Whenever Arthur had doubts, or would start to wonder how they were ever going to pull off such a ridiculous plan, Emrys was always right beside him, the most faithful. He'd smile, mumble something like, "They need you, you prat," then hastily add: "Don't let that get to your head, though. I remember how you got when you were _Other_ Arthur." Then Arthur would laugh, batting at Emrys' wings playfully, and reassure Emrys he'd try not to.

::

Over the months, the two gradually figure out more bits and pieces of their past lives, making some sense of everything... but still not complete sense. Arthur watches Emrys at night as the Faerie stares up at the stars in silence, hugging his legs to his chest, looking a lot younger than he actually is, essentially glowing underneath the moonlight. The dark feathers along his powerful wings are ruffled occasionally whenever the warm, spring breeze picks up. Arthur knows that Emrys is aware he's lying down beside him but makes no sounds. Neither does Emrys. They don't need to.

Arthur smiles, thinking back on the past two years they've had together, on how much has changed in his life. It's then when he knows there's only one who he'll want at his right hand when it's time for him to be king, and that person -- creature, rather -- is right beside him. 

* * *

 

 

 

 

> _-’Сause you are loved._  
>  _You are loved more than you know._  
>   
>  _I hereby pledge all of my days_  
>  _To prove it so._  
>   
>  _Though your heart is far too young to realize_  
>  _The_ unimaginable light _you hold inside._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics taken from Sleeping At Last's "Light"
> 
> It's been a while, eh?
> 
>  
> 
> ______________________
> 
> All characters mentioned (Merlin/Emrys, Arthur Pendragon, etc.) belong to the BBC, taken from the Arthurian legends.  
> Inspired by Disney's Maleficent and Merlin BBC

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this idea in my head since I saw Maleficent just over a month ago and I've been wanting to fic anything about Merlin for close to a year... I hope whoever has chosen to read this enjoyed it!  
> Reviews, comments, advice, etc. are all welcome - once again, I'm a beginner so bare with me and I welcome anyone's input who actually knows what they're doing on this godforsaken site. 
> 
> All mistakes are my own.
> 
> ______________________
> 
> All characters mentioned (Merlin/Emrys and Arthur Pendragon/ perhaps others later..) belong to the BBC.  
> Inspired by Disney's Maleficent and Merlin BBC


End file.
